Sear
by Lustfulcat
Summary: He hoped he wouldn't smother that light. With any luck it might burn him away.


Author's Note: This takes place right after the events of chapter 16

* * *

Doumeki came back with a new shirt and more confliction than he could handle. Stoic as usual, he walked past Sugimoto's earnest beating of the detective and didn't utter a word, didn't even look in their direction.

His focus was completely on Boss.

Seeing Yashiro curled on his side asleep, Doumeki let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and gently closed the door behind him, laying the fresh shirt at the foot of the bed. He looked down, drawn in so easily by Yashiro's beauty, which was more luminous in the maskless face of sleep, and the urge to defile rose up like a lion, rearing its head and roaring.

His injured hand rubbed over his face as he forced himself back, breathing in deeply. He wanted nothing more than to climb into that bed with Boss, touch that body until it shivered under his hands again, hear those pleasure-soaked cries for more. What had happened an hour ago was still very fresh and intense so Doumeki focused his gaze elsewhere, trying to wall out his libido. It wasn't difficult once the guilt and fear kicked in.

It was then that he noticed the sheets. Not really the sheets but the stains on them. And how Yashiro was curled…with his hand also holding evidence.

Doumeki's eyebrows shot to the back of his head. Was this because of what happened earlier? Because of _him_?

 _Did Boss?_

Doumeki shook his head and Yashiro chose that moment to wake, disoriented. Their eyes met and locked easily, betraying them as Yashiro was momentarily himself and Doumeki forgot to school his own shock.

They stared at each other for far too long, until Yashiro tore away and sat up, wiping his hand on the sheet nonchalantly and swinging his legs to the floor.

"Did you get the shirt?"

"Yes." The lion roared again at Boss' nakedness, so loudly that Doumeki couldn't hear his own thoughts. Snapping to task, he grabbed the white button-down, almost missing Yashiro as he stood from the bed, wobbled…

And fell.

" _Boss!_ " Doumeki moved faster than thought, catching Yashiro a hairsbreadth from the floor. His heart pounded like a drum as he gripped Boss tightly, never wanting to let go.

"I'm fine, don't cry again," Yashiro snorted at him, trying to wriggle get out of the cinching grasp, but it became even tighter.

"Doumeki," he warned, but their eyes met once again and the irritation slid from his face like water.

Doumeki was sure Boss could see the maelstrom within, how hard he was struggling. Anger and shame battled with lust across the landscape of his psyche and his body was trembling under the war, the roar, and the naked angel in his arms.

He needed to let Yashiro go and leave the room _now_ or he'd do something he'd regret.

But he couldn't leave…

He could never leave.

"Doumeki?" Yashiro's voice draped over him like satin, a curtain away from the world, circling him and pulling him in.

The roar rose to deafening levels. Doumeki couldn't fight it any longer.

Gently, he leaned down and pressed his lips against Yashiro's, trying to silence his mind, trying to purify the detective's stain or layer his own over it he didn't know. But he didn't want to think about Boss kissing that asshole anymore. _He_ wanted to kiss Yashiro since the moment he saw him in that office, wanted to drown in the beauty and peace that flickered against the chaos of their world.

Doumeki expected to be slapped away or even fired, but he didn't expect Yashiro to freeze…

Then hesitantly tilt his head and _respond_. It might not have happened yesterday or even this morning but things were ever-changing between them, the ephemeral string that tied them together winding into a steel cable with every touch, today's events only making it stronger.

Boss' lips were chapped but warm and he tasted like cigarettes and something else, something indefinable but undeniably _Yashiro_ , and Doumeki lost himself, his mind slowing to a silent crawl. The only thing he could comprehend was _more_.

He cradled Boss' head, bringing him closer and kissing him thoroughly, running fingers through his hair. Yashiro's tongue slid expertly along his, accompanied by a soft moan and Doumeki could barely restrain the urge to roll them over and show Boss how much he could protect him, how much he revered him, use his hands and his mouth until Yashiro was fully his and no one else's.

 _"GYAH!"_

Grim reality speared through Doumeki's fragile world of light and silence. He pulled away, forgetting who and where he was, and glared over his shoulder at the interruption.

Sugimoto unconsciously took a step back then righted himself and frowned at Doumeki. Turning, he blushed at Yashiro's nakedness, his eyes darting around until they finally settled on the ceiling.

"Um…Boss," he scratched the back of his head, "We should go. I may have kicked that detective too many times."

"Did you kill him?" Yashiro seemed amused and stood like he hadn't just passed out and been caught snogging his subordinate. Doumeki scrambled after, assisting him to the bed, then set about gathering the scattered suit.

Sugimoto shifted, his focus still on the ceiling. "I don't think so? He's still breathing but with all due respect Boss…we should probably call an ambulance and _leave_."

Yashiro sighed, lighting a cigarette from the bedside table and watching intently as Doumeki dressed him. Somehow that seemed to make Sugimoto even more uncomfortable.

"There's another errand we need to run," Yashiro stated, smoke curling slowly from his lips. Doumeki avoided looking up. His mind was strangely clear but he wasn't sure how long it would last, especially since he was touching Boss, sliding pants over those long legs.

"We'll call from the room's phone when we're done." Yashiro never glanced at Sugimoto, who bowed excessively while stammering an apology. Doumeki continued to avoid Boss' eyes, even as an ambulance was called and they wiped the room of their presence.

Leading the trio as they left, Sugimoto took the back stairs to the car and Yashiro strolled slowly down the hall in his wake. Doumeki turned, still in the doorway, taking a last glance at the bed and then the floor.

The lion roared again, a single roar that echoed in the silence.

He touched his lips.

It wasn't enough. It was never enough. He only wanted more.

"Are you coming?" Yashiro stood at the end of the hall, sleeves dangling from the jacket across his shoulders, cigarette dangling from his mouth. He was beguiling, otherworldly, perfect. Doumeki couldn't tear his eyes away; the chorus of roars started again.

 _I want to defile him._

He would follow Yashiro into the depths of Hell if he asked. He would sacrifice anything, even his own life. To him, Yashiro _was_ his life, his breath, his light.

He hoped he wouldn't smother that light. With any luck it might burn him away.

"Yes, Boss."


End file.
